


twenty eight (twenty nine in a leap) times love struck

by Randy_sensei



Category: Life Is Strange (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, F/F, Femslash, Femslash February, Femslash February 2019, Fluff, Fluff and Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-01
Updated: 2019-02-28
Packaged: 2019-10-20 10:06:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 28
Words: 16,558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17620421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Randy_sensei/pseuds/Randy_sensei
Summary: The only redeeming quality about Arcadia Bay past its small-town vibe was the fact that its resounding aura of boredom made garnering other emotions and feelings much easier.It's kinda like when you're deaf, your eyesight gets much better. So, when you're bored, you love a lot more.If that makes sense.





	1. opposites (attract) [pricefield]

**Author's Note:**

> Hi guys! Welcome to my first entry for the Femslash February prompts for 2019! If you do decide to read the first prompt, I hope you stick around for the rest! 
> 
> Thanks for reading! If you like it, leave a comment!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anxiety knocks when it comes around and it knocks loud. 
> 
> Max hates it.

Max is laying down on Chloe’s bed, the cigarette Chloe just finished still present in the air.

 

The ceiling has become very interesting to Max, all of a sudden, and in Chloe’s absence, Max is left to her own devices and thoughts, which has never proved a good thing. As always, Max turns to self-doubt.

She recounts the time that has passed since she managed to enroll into Blackwell and coincidentally, it all aligns with how her life turned upside down. Though, upside down in her case is… positive. Her life has only gotten better.

The one she spends the time the most doubting herself about is whether she deserves Chloe.

Chloe, the one constant in her life, partner in crime, and pirate captain, there throughout her entire life in Arcadia Bay.

Ever since they kissed, her mind has been in turmoil, spending nights sleepless with the goofiest grin across her face and with a blush to accompany it. To Max, it was mind-boggling, how someone that has a chance with Rachel _fucking_ Amber chose to be with her instead.

Just thinking about it now brought the same goofy smile across her face. She rubs the grin from her face and continues to stare at the ceiling she’s come face to face so many times.

Max has always been… nerdy, quiet, barely noticeable. Chloe was the exact opposite of her. She’s loud and crude, but under her prickly exterior hides a heart of gold a select few have seen. She doesn’t understand how it happened but it did. It still feels like a dream, kissing and holding hands with her.

Even still, with their history, Max can’t help but worry sometimes. She worries Chloe will leave for a hotter girl at one point, once she realizes exactly how boring Max is, how bland she is and how unfun she is to be around. Maybe she’ll disappear with Rachel one day. If so, she hopes she at least gets a postcard.

The blush has completely subsided now, replaced by a writhing little ball of anxiety forming in Max’s stomach. Her thoughts mingle with the steady flow of music coming from the hi-fi on the other end of the room. Max covers her eyes with her forearm.

She can’t help but worry about everything. Besides looking like a two-by-four, Max thinks that, overall, her love knowledge is definitely lacking, to say the least. When the time comes, Chloe will probably ditch her for someone who knows their stuff once the first night of… that… is up.

Max also figures she never could follow Chloe through. Her energy, Max finds, is hard to keep up with and match. It's only time before Chloe realizes this herself and walks away. Max sniffles, almost bringing herself to tears with something as simple as overthinking.

She hates this anxiety shit, she really does. Chloe was always one to recommend Max some help, get that shit sorted. No facet of life was worth looking through these overthinking goggles and Max had honestly star–

“Hey, Dorkfield! Wake up!”

There’s a weight pressed to Max’s midriff and surprise in her wide open eyes. It's Chloe, in all her glory, in simple around-the-house clothing.

“C-Chloe! Jesus, you scared me,” Max replies, a blush creeping as she leans up on her elbows.

Giggling something like an angel to Max's ears, Chloe retorts, “Sorry, Max, but you were thinking so hard your head started smoking. I thought I’d put an end to that, considering the fact that I know how you get.”

Max chuckles, rubbing the sleep out of herself, “Yeah… you’re right, thanks.”

Smiling, Chloe lets a beat of silence pass. She leans down, the rustling of their clothes the only sound past the music and Chloe leans down to leave a kiss on Max’s jaw. She misses her lips a few times and Max giggles like a dork since she’s ticklish everywhere.

They spend some time entangled in each other, passing what free time they have without anything to do. With each kiss, Max’s anxiety alleviates a little more and her love of Chloe only swells. Her head swims with Chloe and the scent of her, the thoughts of spending so much time at this girl's side addicting and exciting. 

Then it hits her. Her and Chloe, being opposites doesn't bother her as much, now. That actually might turn out to be a good thing for them, in the long run. 

 

After all, they say opposites attract.


	2. pink [pricefield]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Max ponders and comes to a (obvious to everyone else) conclusion. 
> 
> She's head over heels.

On a windy, grey and muted autumn’s day, Max and her friends sit in front of the school and relax. 

 

No one has class, no one has homework, and coincidentally, no one has a single thing to be doing right now. They’ve been asking questions and talking about nothing in particular in a circle for a while now. The topic has somehow managed to switch to likes, dislikes, turn on and off’s, but that last part of the conversation Max stayed pointedly away from. 

During that, she kept her attention mostly on her phone, half thinking about what to browse on it and half hoping Chloe wanted to hang out. Her apprenticeship as a mechanic certainly kept her busy. 

A dainty hand brought her from her reverie with a few snaps and Max, with a few rapid blinks, turns to the source of the hand to find a giggling Kate. 

“Welcome back to the living, Max,” Brooke supplies, half-smile on her face, her eyes pointed at a book, “You zoned hard.” 

Max, rubbing the back of her hand, chuckles, “Sorry, long day, I guess.”    
The response was met with a “Don’t I know it,” a “Yup,” and other affirmative hums and responses of the sort. 

“We stopped at talking about favorite colors and it was your turn,” Kate adds, her head leaned onto her hand now, propped on the table. 

Humming, Max looks up to ponder and a hand of hers finds its way to her chin. If she really had to pick, she’d say blue, because it makes sense; the color of Chloe’s eyes and the color of her hair, the color of Max’s own eyes, the color of that one flannel she has that she really likes and the similar flannel Rachel has. The color of Rachel’s earring was also pleasant, Max had to admit. 

Though, she gets a thought that maybe that’s not actually the only color she really likes… 

She reminisces on sleepy morning pillow talks where Chloe is a total sap and the tinge of Max’s cheeks when Chloe gets super corny and piles on the compliments, but also the way Chloe’s face gets when she’s flustered once Max gets bossy in that way Chloe likes, the color of Chloe’s roots after all this time, the roots she found when running her hands through her hair and that one old shirt she found from when she was a kid that brought her back a few years into the past that she wore for Chloe as a joke. 

Max swallows. 

When expectant eyes land on her, she stammers. 

 

“P-Pink… I like pink a lot. But blue is a close second.”


	3. lost (but found) [chasemarsh]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I've always believed in second chances. 
> 
> Do you?

Victoria is… 

 

Lost. 

It feels weird, finally admitting it to oneself, but Victoria can’t help it. With bleary eyes, she manages to drive her car, leaving it at the parking lot just under the lighthouse trail, and with heavy limbs, she lumbers her way up there. 

The one thing she dreaded for so long finally happened: everything she’d been carrying on her shoulders, all the insecurity, and the anger, and the pain she felt at always somehow being just not good enough caught up with her after a particularly bad day at Blackwell. 

The straw that broke the camel’s back was the talk with her parents that came after. Things weren’t pretty. They ended badly. 

So now, Victoria is here, getting mud on the pair of sneakers she has for a just-in-case like this, her eyes weighed to the ground involuntarily. A few moments of inspecting the mud as she goes later, she finds herself at the bench at the top of the cliff, by the lighthouse. 

Her eyes raise with the supply of a sigh that leaves her chest and… she finds someone there, sitting on the bench, looking out towards the sea and the setting sun. 

Kate. Kate Marsh, of all people. 

Victoria winced something weak and barely audible. She turns to leave, not wanting to remember what a piece of shit she was now. She won– 

“Victoria?” 

At the words, Victoria freezes on the spot and turns slowly. 

“Hi… Kate. Sorry, I-I didn’t know there was anyone here,” she replies, rubbing her neck, “I was just about to go.” 

But then, Kate flashes her a smile, not too big, out of mockery, and not too small, out of pity. Just a smile. 

“Nonsense, silly,” she moves to the side on the bench, slowly and chuckling lightly, and pats the space next to her, “There’s plenty of space on the bench right here.” 

After pathetically trying to whimper some excuse or the other out, Victoria shrugs with a sigh and goes with the flow. Her steps are slow and purposelessly methodical and, once reaching the bench, Victoria takes a slow seat a bit of a ways away from Kate and she leans down, her elbows rested onto her knees. 

They spend a moment or two… or three, like that, in total silence. Victoria can feel Kate’s gaze flicker to her occasionally, but instead of scorching hate, she feels… like there’s a spot of the Sun’s beam landing right on her. It’s the weirdest sensation. 

“Victoria,” Kate asks, her voice hushed with worry, “is everything okay?” 

Her eyes flickering between the ground and the horizon, Victoria spends some time dwelling on the answer she doesn’t have. Her hands fidget in each other like she hasn’t done since she was a kid and thinks that, opening up, here and now, to Kate of all people, would probably be her downfall. She sniffles. 

Though, it wouldn’t be the first downfall of the day. 

She sighs heavily and shakes her head, slowly at first. 

Out of the corner of her eye, Victoria sees a spark of worry flicker on Kate’s face as she reaches a hand out to Victoria’s shoulder, slowly but surely. 

“Would you like to talk about it?” asks Kate in a slow, understanding manner, and Victoria almost doesn’t believe what she’s hearing, “I’m all ears.” 

But something in that way she says it makes Victoria think that… maybe there isn’t an ulterior motive to that question. Maybe it's genuine. The fact that Kate even wanted to look at her, what with all things considered, and the way she is at school alone is… amazing. Saintly, almost. 

So, Victoria thinks, fuck it. What’s the worst that could happen? 

And she tells Kate the entire story. Somewhere along the line, she cries a little, to which Kate only replies with a hug. Victoria swears that that was the best hug she's felt in her lifetime. But it all still feels wrong to her. She didn’t deserve this, any of this. Kate shouldn’t be as friendly as she is. 

After voicing this exact worry, Kate works to quell the thought and proves Victoria wrong, painting herself in a different light to Victoria along the way.

At the end of it all, Victoria drives both of them back to the dorm, and under the cover of darkness, they part with a hug, one Victoria sticks a little longer than was necessary. 

And after that, Victoria… doesn’t feel as lost anymore. 

She takes a mental note to bully Kate less. Far less. To just outright _stop_. And also find out what her favorite flowers are.

 

If anything, though, she feels... found. It's an odd feeling, but not an unwelcome one. 


	4. café [chasemarsh]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Victoria is many things, but nervous? Never. A laughable notion, even. 
> 
> ...Right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I skimmed a bit on the fluff and the head-over-heels Victoria but I just wasn't feeling this prompt, guys. :/ 
> 
> Compared to all the rest, it feels a little shallow and I had trouble thinking of anything for it, really.

Victoria is… 

 

Nervous. 

Victoria is many, many things, but nervous is not one of them. She’s a femme fatale, she’s smart, rich, talented, the list goes on. But one thing that list never had is  _ nervous. _ Victoria is never nervous. 

So, why the fuck was she nervous right now?! 

Some time had passed since Kate and Victoria had a heart to heart, and some time had passed since Victoria vowed never to be an asshole to Kate again, especially after everything. She’d managed to make good on that promise to herself but in the start, it was hard. A lot of self-wrist-slapping was involved.

Some time had passed and Victoria still didn’t know Kate’s favorite flowers. 

But that was besides the point right now. 

This is what was probably the sixth, perhaps seventh, time Victoria stood in front of the mirror, practicing. As to what she was practicing, she had no idea, she just… was. Calming her nerves. Yeah. That’s what it was. 

Once the last class of the day ended, she managed to catch up to Kate, flaking on her entourage, their usual flanking becoming more and more suffocating by the day. Kate had been just Kate, smiling all bright in her nice, beige sweater, outshining the sunset across the water behind them. That day, Victoria had a coughing spree, hoping it would hide the sudden crimson spreading across her face. 

Victoria’s forehead fell into her hand with a sigh. 

She was so dumb at that moment, good god. She was also thankful at that moment that she decided to find Kate without her entourage. 

Anyways. 

Victoria managed to ask Kate out, only without wording it that way. There was a brand new coffee shop opening and Victoria spotted they did tea. She also wanted to thank Kate in some way but hadn’t found a way how. So, this is the corner she’s painted herself in, a faux-date with the heavenly Kate Marsh who Victoria is suddenly head over heels for. 

After grabbing her keys off her table, Victoria left her room while checking the time on her phone. 

What her phone couldn’t tell her though is that Kate shared her feelings. That’s something she’d find out by the end of the night, and it all starts when she arrives to Kate keeping their seat and is left speechless. 

 

Victoria likes this place already, only she doesn’t know it yet. 


	5. sharp

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rachel has an off day. She isn't quite as sharp as she is most days. Chloe is there, though, as is Max. 
> 
> They make all the worrying go away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Damn... not gonna lie, guys, I'm not too terribly proud of this. I had taken more time than I had set out to and it was a bit of a bitch to write towards the end as I lost the idea I had for it. 
> 
> This isn't my finest writing but I still hope you can enjoy it.

Max yawns, slinging the bag on her back off her shoulder and holding it in her hands as she walks the short distance from the curb to Chloe’s door.

 

After finishing up some loose homework here and there and after she finished up her tea date with Kate, Chloe had texted her to come around, which, truth be told, was Max’s plan for the day anyways. After that initial invitation, Max had heard close to nothing from Chloe.

It was odd, sure, but not completely unbelievable and weird. For all Max knew, Chloe probably fell asleep.

With a content sigh, Max steps up and crosses the threshold of the Price family home, leaving her denim jacket and backpack at the door.

“Chlo, I’m home!” she calls into the house while kicking off her chucks. Every time Max came around, she loved yelling that into the house, seeing as this place basically was home, now and the greeting only helped solidify the fact. She stretches a little as she walks further into the house and spots Chloe on the couch.

With Rachel.

Or, rather, Rachel’s hunched form, Chloe’s hand on her back supportively. Max’s eyebrows furrow with worry as she approaches, which is when Rachel’s sobs become more and more audible to her. Chloe does eventually look away to meet Max’s worried eyes and Chloe’s are tired, worried just like hers.

“Is everything alright?” Max asks in a hushed tone when she gets down to a level to meet Chloe’s eyes. Chloe shakes her head and replies.

“Long story," Chloe replies, "but I could use your help.”

With an exhale, Max’s eyes shift to Rachel, her face buried in her hands. The three had been very close friends for a long while, so it makes sense that a scene like this tears Max apart. Though, she could only begin to imagine how Chloe felt. Max stands upright again and goes to the other side of the couch, sliding into place over the back of it and nudges Rachel gently with her knee, her hand coming to rest on her shoulder.

Chloe looks to Max and leans to Rachel, “I’m gonna go and fix something up to drink, maybe order a pizza, go grab something out of my stash and we are going to have a girls night in. Okay?” she asks, tracing circles in Rachel’s upper back to which Rachel only nods, hastily between sobs.

Once she stands up, Chloe sighs, winking to Max in support and walks away towards the kitchen to set out doing what she had promised.

Max thinks from there, though, kind of stuck in the moment, unsure how to proceed. 

During their friendship, Rachel had always been sharp, quickwitted, untouchable, amazing and smart. This fall from grace was unbecoming of Rachel and it tore Max's heart apart. It isn’t often Max gets to see Rachel, let alone anyone, like this. Without much knowledge of the situation, she feels helpless, like in many, many other situations, so for now, all she can do is etch herself into Rachel’s side and pull her closer in support and comfort.

She seems to be doing better than before, probably, and Max must be doing _something_ right, because Rachel leans into her side, as well. They spend time like this, Max’s forehead on Rachel’s shoulder. Some time into the evening, Rachel explains everything that’s bothering her and its quite a bit for Max. They spend some time comforting Rachel further until she puts it past her again, like before, and everything is back to a relative normal.

Chloe and Rachel take turns teasing Max until she blushes, and Rachel and Max take turns talking back to Chloe until she groans in exasperation and admits defeat. But, during this entire time, something new and uncertain itches at Max’s curiosity.

In her every day spiel of anxiety that comes around right on the hour each day, she wonders about Chloe and Rachel, or rather their past relationship. The affection between these two is obvious and Max can’t help but feel like she swooped in and theatrically stole Rachel’s girl, seeing as the pair had a history. Chloe had also spent some time quelling this worry of Max’s, with this answer or another, but it had helped only in the current time. Max thought that, maybe, there was a way to fix all of that.

Once their pizza finally arrives, they hate-watch a flick or two, sharing quips and swapping stories, jokes and the such, many of which have Max blushing and Chloe laughing even harder because of it.

During it all, to Max, it feels right. It feels like she doesn't ever want to give what they have up. 

But still, that something… just will not give up.

Once the night ends and Rachel and Chloe end up asleep on the couch, Max’s tiny form under them, providing extra comfort, Max spends some time in her head, the late night infomercials providing background to her thoughts. If any of the two had woken up to find Max with her head tilted back, staring into the darkness of the ceiling, they’d have called her crazy.

But instead, Max spends all that time thinking.

By the end of the next hour, her decision is made and it makes her breath shake and her heart beat wildly because  _what if it doesn't work_ and  _won't it screw things up between us_ , so on and so forth. 

 

The question she has and forms on her lips at the end of the night is risky business. Like Rachel, though, she needs to be sharp about it, but for now, Max just cuddles into the two and dozes off to an attempted restful sleep, wondering what tomorrow and the day after might bring. 


	6. the moon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone takes the night out on Friday to enjoy each others company and relax. Somewhere in the middle, Rachel chooses to think. 
> 
> It's obvious.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now, THIS is more the approach I wanted to take in the last one. As they say, hindsight is twenty-twenty, and now I know I should have held off on posting it when I did and instead just worked to fix it. But, yesterday was an off day and I had already spent about an hour or so thinking that idea up, so I figured it was the best it could be then. 
> 
> Hope you guys enjoy this one more!

“Well, I'm cracking one open with the boys… by myself!” Chloe sings, then chuckles lightly. 

 

As Max’s adept fingers fly across the chords of the guitar, Chloe raises the open forty ounce in her hand into the air, translucent against the full Moon they all sat under. 

“And everybody thinks that I need… professional help!” 

Chloe’s voice rings out and bounces around the trees touched by the open fire they all have going under the lighthouses protective shadow as they all sing along with Chloe. Around that same fire, sit Chloe, Max, Rachel and a few of their friends, Dana, Trevor, and Justin, enjoying the end of the week and hanging out, out of the grasps of Blackwell. 

In front of every single one of them are bottles of some cheap beer or the other they found on their way after they all chipped in, all in varying amounts of “drank,” Chloe’s being the most, followed closely by Rachel and then Max, surprisingly. Behind Rachel stands the lighthouse, overlooking them all like a friendly warden. She’s flanked by her two best friends in the entire universe and she feels warm. 

Yet her head can’t help but sit still. Rachel has shut herself in just a little, while she thinks. 

Something about the relationship she has with Chloe and Max has changed in her head and she can’t quite place it. She noticed how she slowly drew herself closer to them, how they didn’t mind the odd touch or closeness every now and then or how simple things like changing around each other didn’t bother them one bit anymore. 

Rachel figures changes like these were incoming since it made sense, what with them being great friends, but something in her head told her otherwise. It wasn’t a bad feeling, per se, just weird. It wasn’t something she could really ask anyone unless they were thinking in a similar way she was. 

A part of her just sits on the sides and calls her selfish because that seems like the easier thing to do, when in reality, maybe she just loves in more than one direction, and, that’s perfectly plausible if anyone around Rachel right now was asked. She has so much love for everything. 

And a part of her thinks that maybe, just maybe, Chloe and Max don’t feel the same way and would just end up looking at her like she’s some sort of weirdo. But when, from her left, Max bumps into Rachel’s hunched form with her elbow that’s wrapped around her guitar and smiles at the blinking Rachel, that last worry withers away when she returns the smile. 

Rachel figures it must have been obvious she was thinking far too much, but at the end of it all, she feels much better and much more confident in her decisions. 

And around the time she gasps and her eyes widen in revelation does she forget about what she was thinking and just continues to enjoy the company of her girls, and their friends. She nudges at Max with both hands, excitedly. 

 

“Max, do Wonderwall!” she calls, while the rest groan jokingly. 


	7. disaster

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Max has fucking had enough. This disaster of a tornado played out more times than she wants to remember, but this was the last straw. 
> 
> She'll have her own destiny how she wants it, thank you very fucking much.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We interrupt your regularly scheduled fluff for a bit of an action-packed one. Disaster as a prompt is almost literally made for Life is Strange. Sorry its later than the usual ones, though, I was having fun elsewhere and wasn't able to write right off the bat. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy!
> 
> I also seriously need to write more badass!Max... I don't think I've written something this fast with this much excitement in a while :P

This had been the…

 

Probably twenty-seventh time. Maybe twenty-ninth. Max lost count past the first ten times that she had stared at that fucking tornado. She really didn’t care anymore, the rising ache in her head only numbing her to the passing of time the more she goes back to that godforsaken moment.

Max chuckled grimly at this. Everything about this situation was godforsaken.

Everything she had tried so far failed. Some failed within the first few days, others took the full week to fail, some some- _fucking-_ how even more spectacularly than the hurricane. But she tried and tried again, time after time, absolutely fucking hellbent on not giving Chloe up. At first, it was a matter of love, and in some parts, it still was about love.

But, Max has grown a vengeful streak. Now, she just really wants to get back at the universe, as silly as it may sound.

Somewhere along the line, she figured out how to stop time without too many repercussions, which was a pleasant surprise. She didn’t have to hobble around everywhere like a zombie or take up Chloe’s bed for approximately one and a half day straight every time she jumped.

Even despite all this time bullshit, she took the time to write all her experiences down into her journal. Hours passed, days, weeks even and it became just that amount more full every single time. It had also seen better days; the journal’s covers have become ratty, some pages torn from the center but some torn halfway or maybe just a bit, the seams ripping apart slowly in one part of it all.

Max realized she even lost some stickers off of it at one point.

She, in turn, had also become significantly more disheveled in appearance and Chloe’s reaction to it all became more and more severe until Max took the time to shower for once in one of those timelines.

The journal didn’t hit the fan like the shit it was for no reason, no. A flowchart formed whether Max had wanted it or not that eventually lead to the ending of this twisted and _fucked_ week that was the least… well, twisted and _fucked_ _._

Max traveled back to that moment in history and froze time, for now, giving herself more time to think at the moment when she slid down the stall behind her and onto the floor. Max closes her eyes and breathes.

Though, Max went back to one of the timelines for a cruise. To set her mind in place and let herself calm down before the final, definitive timeline, and it was the one with a windswept, to say the least, Arcadia Bay, when Chloe clutched close to her, their lips clashing with parts romantic intention and part savage desperation.

Even in one timeline, she made out with Chloe after the dare, instead of just a simple peck. That Chloe knew the full extent of Max’s feelings and everything that had gone down, and that one hurt the most to say goodbye to.

But it was bittersweet since it helped her the most.

With her mind set and her nerves calm, Max’s eyes snap open, a roaring flame of determination building behind them only further fueled to a blaze by the love of who she had to save. Memories from the happiest timeline she had lived through stoked it further and further and further. She snaps that fucking picture and just waits, waits for Nathan’s gaunt appearance to show itself in that bathroom, like sickly prey. Max smiles with a grim, insane-esque quality to her grin, and once things play through the motions far enough, she strikes.

Max appears from behind the furthest stall like a ghost, just suddenly materializing behind a gun-toting Nathan, and before Chloe or Nathan are any the wiser, Max’s hand flies out in a fist and connects with the side of Nathan’s head, right at the temple, forcing it to connect rather harshly with the linoleum wall next to him.

Max made sure to dish out a side of crazy eyes, just to signify the fact that she was done playing.

No more disasters.

This was an open call against fate, destiny.

 

Max isn’t giving up.


	8. silent [pricefield]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chloe thinks herself into a stupor and it's hard on Max when she snaps out of it. Max often times can't tell which one of them needs the other more. 
> 
> But its pretty sure she needs Chloe to live.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still not back to your regularly scheduled fluff. Sorry, folks, but this one went a lot angstier than I had anticipated. In fact, if you read this, slap on some Mogwai (my choice is Kids Will Be Skeletons but go off with whichever track you like) because their stuff is some of the moodiest. It also helps with writing a lot. I love it. 
> 
> Anyways, I hope you enjoy! 
> 
> (you can thank unknown_knowns for this fit of angst, I just got done reading ['The One Good Thing in Seattle'](https://archiveofourown.org/series/557492) and loved it, even though it tore my heart out)

Chloe takes a page out of Max’s book and starts to zone out a lot. 

 

Especially if there’s weed in her system and a lot on her mind. She zones out, equips her hundred yard stare and just thinks. About everything. About her dad, about Max, about Rachel, her life, her aspirations. Sometimes, she breaks from this stupor completely the same. Sometimes even with a smile, once she finds Max’s head on her lap smiling up at her. 

Sometimes, she comes out of it with tears and tears are almost never happy. 

Max is always there though; right there, or somewhere close by. When Chloe gets this way, Max never leaves her side. She implores Rachel to often do the same, so Chloe breaks from her daze with her two best friends wrapped around each arm. 

They try. Mostly because it pains them both to see her just suddenly tear up. Because it seems that tears are contagious. 

The one time it gets worse than usual, it's the worst Max has seen Chloe get after these. But Max is resolved on being a rock to Chloe in these times, seeing as Chloe is Max’s rock every other day of their life. It tears Max’s heart out to see Chloe like this. 

In a fit of bravery or perhaps desperation, Max, with tears in her eyes, climbs into Chloe’s lap, facing her and wrapping her tiny frame around her girlfriend, tears spilling onto her hoodie, leaving marks that Max will not mind in a million years. Max’s arms wrap around her and grip like a lifeline. She cries along. 

At one point, Chloe flinches, noticing Max, and her arms pull Max even closer in response. They exchange sobs, where there’s no room for words. 

They stay silent, thanks expressed through tear stains and stray kisses. 

 

They wouldn't know what to say, anyways. 


	9. lavender [chasemarsh]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kate takes some time to think: this week has been _hectic_ and it's hard to keep up for her, a little. There are emotions to figure out, as well, but that's a story for a different time. 
> 
> For now, though, she just thinks of lavender.

Kate huffs and blinks and ponders.

 

She ponders something that has been at the forefront of her mind since it happened. It picks at her and she can't help but take some time for herself to just sit, do nothing, think, drink some tea, maybe pet Alice a little. This entire week had been a rollercoaster, all starting with the moment Victoria stumbled upon her on the cliff, where she thought that she would have been thrown off of that same cliff but instead, they… had a heart to heart. Which was the last thing Kate expected, really.

That day Kate got to see a side of Victoria she didn’t really expect to see. Some things Victoria swore on then really did take her by surprise. The fact she kept the promise even more, but in reality, the only thorn in her side at Blackwell had been Victoria. 

She kept on top of her studies and had time for social life in most of the girls on her floor, particularly Max and Dana. Now that that thorn is out, she can't help but think of the why, as long as think of literally everything else.

Sometimes, Kate feels like her mind might explode. She manages to set some things aside and keep her head on _straight._

This rollercoaster, she remembers, started then, on the cliff, but only when Kate noted Victoria’s smell.

She smelled pleasantly of lavender. Kate thinks that's weird, what she did, but if anyone had the chance to experience the proximity they did at that moment, they would understand. Kate had no choice but she still blushes at the thought.

She doesn’t remember particularly  _thinking_  about flowers she likes before but, suddenly, lavender shot up on the non-existent list and poor Kate couldn’t quite place her thoughts on this, and what it meant. She never thought of labeling herself with things like this, but she did love with all of her heart.

Another factor to account into that is what her parents thought.

Kate sighs. That’d be a beast of its own and a hell to pay all by itself.

Also, the fact that Victoria did-but-didn’t-but-did-still bring her out on a date a few days ago. Or at least that’s what her friends told her. To her, it was just an outing to go see what the new coffee place was like, but… apparently not?

Kate had no idea about any of these things and… despite everything, she still finds Victoria… beautiful. They’re opposites, Kate does realize, but there was that one saying she remembers, something about opposites attracting?

Yeah, that was it. That gives her a little faith in that.

But she still sighs. Figuring out her emotions is an uphill climb, one in which she hopes not to lose Victoria as a friend. When things are said and done, Kate figures that this is a thing to figure out as she goes.

There’s an odd sense of comfort in that fact. Kate revels in it.

At least for the time being. Now, she just thinks of lavender, and how nice of a smell it was on Victoria.

 

She sighs wistfully.  



	10. waiting [pricefield]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chloe plus waiting does not equal anything good. She feels like doing something but its the middle of the night and she promised Max she'd behave. So Chloe spends some time perusing your local Seven-Eleven. 
> 
> As you do.

Chloe perused the items on offer in this Seven-Eleven nearby where Max works. 

 

What with her free time, she decided that maybe stretching her legs outside of her truck could do her with some good. The Seven-Eleven seemed like a nice stop after a refreshing, close-to-midnight's walk. Chloe ends up thinking, and only staring at the items instead of wondering what to _actually_ get.

She remembers that, ever since that freak fucking tornado struck Arcadia Bay and ever since Max’s severe dedication to getting everyone out, Chloe’s life has taken a drastic uptilt. Yeah, the initial shock and sadness of losing her home and hometown, along with the memories that stuck there was a thing, of course, but…

Everyone was saved. Max was here, her mom was fine, David was fine, Rachel was avenged, Jefferson was behind bars and the evidence against him was too high stacked to give him any sort of defense, so the gavel of justice hit him and it hit  _hard._   

Max had also been adamant to stay by Chloe's side even after her parents miraculously showed up to bring her back to Seattle. They had gone, of course, but she didn't leave Chloe's side once. Max also offered her something she could never refuse. The promise of going elsewhere and starting a life with her best friend whom she hadn’t seen for five years that came back to her a week ago, predicted a freak tornado, got everyone out and then chose to stick by her side was… far too tempting to let slip and Max knew this. She was still overjoyed when Chloe accepted.  

So here they are now. In San Francisco, of all places, somehow with a stable job, stable living arrangements and stable mental health, despite the rocky start of the year directly after Arcadia Bay. Of course, it's been something short of three years since then, so it's no surprise. 

Chloe is half a year deep into college classes after she managed to get her hands on a GED and Max went back at one point to get her Blackwell diploma, settling to study and work elsewhere instead of stick around in Oregon for long, after what happened. 

Things are stable. It's hard to believe, especially with the anniversary of it all coming up, soon.  

With a sigh, Chloe turns on her heel to inspect another aisle. 

Right now, though, she’s waiting. Waiting on her girlfriend to finish up with work so they can go do literally anything else. One part of Chloe hated this, she never could stay still for too long and was never the most patient one. But she reflects and figures that waiting never was an enemy to her. 

Sure, she thought that way for so long and it seemed that way in the past, what with waiting for her dad to come back that first week after he died and go “haha, that was all a joke!” or, waiting on a text or call or email from Max, or waiting on the same from Rachel and then just waiting for Rachel to… come back to her. 

The last time she had to wait that long stung the most. There were reasons for Chloe to think that waiting wasn’t her friend but in truth, if she had to wait through tough times just to get to where she is now? She’d do it. Maybe not again, but she’d do it. This, what she and Max have is worth it. 

She sighs wistfully, checking her phone for both times and to look at the lock screen of Rachel she has. 

Just then, her phone rings, with none other than Max’s dorky face coming up as a contact picture. She sniffles with a smile and figures waiting was worth it. She starts to make her way out to the rust heap that is her truck. 

 

“Heya, dork,” she answers her phone. 


	11. rest day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just another, regular old Friday night. Nothing weird or endearing about this one. The weird and endearing part comes in Saturday morning. 
> 
> There's a first for everything for Rachel.

Rachel yawns, her eyes opening to the ever familiar ceiling of Chloe Price’s room as her consciousness returns slowly, blinking away bleary eyes. 

 

When the autumn nights grew colder, the gang’s tradition of unwinding on a Friday moved from atop the lighthouse cliff to a cycle of different places, ranging from several Blackwell rooms to Chloe’s house and occasionally Rachel’s, which had been a pleasant surprise she sprung on her parents, counting on the possibility of them being able to make themselves sparse. 

Another Friday night came along and this time around, they ended up in Chloe’s house. Joyce had given them their complete freedom due to being absent elsewhere for the night, doing things Chloe would definitely rather not think about with step-prick. Or David. Whatever. They were trying to patch things up, maybe, but baby steps.  

They had spent their Friday night immersed in movies and inhaling pizza like their lives depended on it, which is the way Chloe eats pizza any day.  

Like any other night, they spent it in joyous laughter that burned brighter this time around. Luckily, the original tension of Kate bringing _Victoria_ of all people had died down and, surprisingly, they had more fun than before. It was a blast, and close to around two in the morning, everyone dispersed, Chloe driving anyone who lived in the Pres- _cock_ dorms back. The ass end of that night was all a blur to the three girls as they went through the motions tired out of their minds. 

They all collapsed in the same bed, which– 

Is where Rachel is right now. Sleeping  _ platonically _ in the same bed as the two girls she is crushing on. 

She blinks, realization dawning like the sun sending gentle rays through the flag strewn across Chloe's window. Rachel Amber doesn’t get flustered, ever, but she's only human, and there may be a first for everything. There’s a hand placed gently up against her upper arm as she lays on her back. She finds it to be Chloe’s, judging by the fact that Max is adjacent to her. She realizes that they’re both resting on Chloe, draped or strewn across her somehow or the other. 

Rachel can see that Max has her head on Chloe’s stomach and a hand draped over her when she turns a little to look as the two of them lightly snore. There’s heat in Rachel’s face over the intimacy of this entire situation that has _everything_ to do with the thoughts she’s been having recently about her two best friends. 

A part of her feels awful for even thinking about something like that due to the faint seed of impossibility implanted into her own mind by her own demons, and the other part encourages her, telling her that this is what feels right to her, correct, that she shouldn't keep emotions as strong as these in. She wants to give in but to her, what they have is too precious to risk with stupid _feelings_. 

Rachel sighs, demoralized slightly but with the sad smile on her face, she gets an idea. 

She shifts to her side, gently taking some of Max’s hand into hers. Rachel settles into Chloe with this as Chloe’s hand moves from next to her and finds purchase in Rachel’s hair, to which Rachel responds by freezing over, blinking a million times in the span of a second. 

Though, the gentleness of it all strikes her and snaps her out of it. She doesn’t want to disturb any of this and chalks up today as a rest day. 

 

Rachel goes back to sleep, a smile on her face and the two most important people in her life around her. 


	12. balloons [chasemarsh]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Victoria's birthday and no one in her new circle of friends has wished her happy birthday. It's a little weird until it isn't, and Victoria almost cries.

Victoria sighs. 

 

Currently, she finds herself at the end of the day that just coincidentally happens to be her birthday. 

It all went by regularly the same, a phone call in the morning from her mom, wishing her all the best, messages from her sisters and a deposit from her dad, which, as much as he’s concerned,  was his job as a father done. Victoria grumbles. 

She can’t say she doesn’t  _ want _ the money, just that she doesn’t  _ need  _ it, per se. Victoria figures she could spend it on friends, considering the new leaf she’s turning, but… maybe she’ll just let it sit there. 

Speaking of sitting, one thing didn’t with her. Victoria hadn’t gotten a “happy birthday” from any one of her friends around Blackwell. Somehow, she either missed them at school or they just didn’t care enough to seek her out and wish her a happy birthday. 

As the dorm’s entrance comes into view, she spots Nathan sitting on its steps, nursing a beer in one hand, obviously uncaring if anyone spots him. Victoria smiles a little, meeting someone who might wish her a happy birthday that she can hear with her own ears, rather than read off a screen or hear through a phone. A very small smile forms on her face as they make eye contact, Nathan mirroring her. Only his looks like a smirk. 

Victoria saunters to his side, sitting down next to him and bumping shoulders and before long, Victoria gets what she wants: a proper “happy birthday.” They sit in the shadows cast by the sunset and talk it out, Victoria venting her worries that she thought about a moment ago. To this, Nathan brings up an alright point, making her believe that it has been a pretty short time since she decided to become less of a bitch, so they all might not even know. 

With this in mind and enough time spent, Victoria stands to go inside but is promptly stopped by Nathan with something in his hands. It's a box, a bit bigger than his palm. She takes it with thanks, a full smile forming across her face and leaves Nathan to his beer. 

The thought keeps bothering her all the way up the steps and once she reaches her dorm floor, the night has almost completely fallen. After reaching her door, she moves to unlock it but hears a door creak open behind her. 

Victoria is surprised to find Kate’s smiling face poking out of the door at her. She gestures towards herself wildly. 

“Victoria, come here, I have something to show you.” 

For a moment, Victoria just blinks and takes weary steps towards Kate after a beat of silence. Kate is looking down and up the hallway but rolls her eyes after a moment, pulling Victoria by the cardigan into the room. 

When she does, her hands go around her midriff from behind and she bumps the light on at the same time. With a Kate on her shoulder and wrapped around her, the room erupts into light, balloons and decorations everywhere. A modest group of people and  _ Chloe _ somehow, all with smiles of different types on their faces. 

“Happy birthday!” 

 

Victoria cries a little, but they’re happy tears. 


	13. the sun

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rachel lives life feeling every emotion there is to feel under the sun. Sometimes, that's good and sometimes, it's bad. Though, someone is there for Rachel. 
> 
> And she's thankful.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had a bit of a tough time with this prompt. Right now, it stands as The Prompt I've Drafted The Most, at a draft number of four (4). Finally, I managed to settle for this one after letting my head bounce around on the keyboard, a bit. 
> 
> I hope you guys enjoy!

To many, Rachel Amber is the sun. 

 

She is a girl of amazing energy and presence, the kind people can rarely keep their eyes off. She is the kind of girl to be friends with everyone, be kind and loving to everyone, brings an aura of happiness with her wherever she goes. In many words, one shines out in the middle of them all, the one word everyone would use, an apt description, they feel.   


Perfect. 

Rachel knows to keep her circle well and truly small, because of this. To people, she shows what she wants to show and not a single little speck more than that, granting her aura an air of mystery. To the people she calls friends and finds them to be just that, well and truly, she shows a face of herself that not many see, one that she does not show often.  

But Rachel is only human, and the sun is not always around to brighten everyone up. The sun has eclipses, as well.  

It's often that being everyone’s friend can get exhausting. Her mood can be a vexing bitch to her sometimes and maybe, Rachel for once isn’t feeling up to dealing with everyone. Whenever she manages to find herself in such a mood, she distances, obviously wanting to be left alone, and people notice, of course, but she only wants the right people around for moments like those, the few people willing to push past her bullshit and help her properly.  

Rachel’s brain often times abducts her extroversion, one of her greatest traits and takes it hostage, runs her patience thin at the same time, thus making it far harder for her to be kind to people that want her attention. Against slumps like these, though, Chloe is there. Her beautiful best friend of a few years that lives life to its fullest with her signature attitude and personality, something Rachel gave life to in the way-back-when , is always ready to crack Rachel’s protective shell and show her how good life can be, breathe the air around her and give her an amazing time to don life with a newer, brighter color. 

Rachel’s brain often times abducts her feelings, messing them up, tying them together and putting them away in the wrong place, where they don't belong, leaving some spaces behind empty and alone, shaking everything inside Rachel's head out of order. Against slumps like these, though, Max is there. Her amazing best friend co-acting as a support beam with its own gaggle of problems and insecurities that have no right being in place the way they are is there to piece Rachel back together with a calm word, steady hands, a freckle shot face and the prettiest, widest smile Rachel has had the pleasure to see. 

When she gets time for herself, Rachel often contemplates what she did to deserve people as good as the two girls she gets to call her best friends in the wide universe and sometimes, she sheds a tear, a wide smile drawn across her face, thankful beyond belief for what she has been given. In turn to this, she decides to give back whenever she can.   


Chloe is _her_ sun. 

Max is _her_ sun. 

 

And Rachel wouldn’t have it any other way. 


	14. white [chasemarsh]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Victoria and Kate. Kate and Victoria. It sounds oddly nice together. Kate seems to think so as well, judging by her actions. 
> 
> Standing next to the lighthouse, Victoria sits stunned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little late but here nonetheless! Enjoy!

Victoria notices a new thing about Kate every time she sees her. 

 

Every time they go out (on a date) as friends, Victoria’s eyes keep picking up a small detail about Kate Marsh, the small church bunny that goes to the same school as her, only coincidentally the same one she’s madly in love with, but also exactly the one that might not feel the same, because of her religion and its less than favorable treatment of people like her.   


It was all in all a weird situation for Victoria but her heart has always felt what her heart wanted to feel, so there really is no stopping her at what she's going to do. 

One part of Kate that Victoria has never failed to notice is the fact that she always has a similar color scheme on her at any given time. Well, truth be told it's not the entire scheme that’s similar, it's just that she always has a white article of clothing on her at any given time, whether it's her sweaters with intricate designs or a button-up shirt just under it. 

Victoria thinks it suits her well, the color. It represents plenty of things that are a staple for Kate as she knows her. White is associated with light, goodness, innocence, purity, all of which Kate fits _exactly_. Maybe she tries to be that way, maybe it just makes sense for the two to correlate, once Victoria thinks about it. 

Kate notices a new thing about Victoria every time she sees her. 

Every time they go out as friends, Kate notices something small in Victoria’s behaviors or otherwise that piece the puzzle that is Victoria together, only making her much friendlier to the girl, which paints a smile across Kate’s face. A lot of the times Kate is also surprised at the fact that Victoria had kept her promise up as long as she did. 

There’s also something about Victoria that catches Kate’s eye, something that she isn’t quite familiar with. It goes against her religion but as far as she’s concerned, the part of it that deemed that people go to hell for loving someone didn’t sit right with her. Yet, with that worry out of the way, Kate couldn’t help but feel bothered by what to do and what step to take next. 

Max, bless her soul, had been a great help, but her advice can only go so far seeing as she had known her love interest for as long as she was alive, almost. Kate had eventually ended up asking Rachel Amber of all people about how to proceed and Kate felt a little bad when she got more help than she had expected at first.

Then again, it was her fault for expecting anything but amazing from Rachel. 

Kate never got to act out on her feelings, considering both that the plan of hers was in its infancy but also the fact that Victoria had taken Kate to the lighthouse during a sunset, exactly when the sunset turns white hot against the starry sky and beams reflect across the unstable waters of the Bay. 

It's there that Victoria had finally decided to spill the metaphorical beans and confess to Kate, only for Kate to act on the love-struck impulse that ached in her heart at the heat of the moment, only to leave a peck across Victoria’s lips and run off, leaving a stunned Victoria in her wake. The two of them would just have to deal with their feelings another way, one that didn't involve each other.   


When reality caught up to Victoria, she kept blinking and standing there, completely dumbfounded. 

 

She turns to the sunset as she sets herself against the bench’s surface, sitting down properly and staring out at the sea, with nothing but a smile across her face and confusion in her eyes. 


	15. umbrella [chasemarsh]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The rain catches Kate rather unexpectedly, but a knight in shining armor comes to help her, trailing awkwardness along. Out of it, both Kate and her knight come out happy, and Kate's favorite sweater is saved from the rain. 
> 
> Kate smiles and it warms Victoria to the core.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not late, you are. You see _nothing._

A few days had passed since Kate’s daring move. 

 

A few days had also passed since she couldn’t talk to Victoria without blushing like a crazy person. Kate sighs. It was partially obvious that Victoria was avoiding her and that Kate was avoiding Victoria. Seeing as it's the general consensus that feelings are hard to figure out, Kate expected that to happen. 

Not for this long, though. 

After a stressful day of classes, Kate decided to treat herself and head out to a tea shop that she likes that’s nearby, only to be caught in the sudden rain that came over the Bay. From under the shop's ornate awning, Kate looks out into the rain, angling for a view into the gray clouded sky, the rain showing no obvious signs of stopping. 

She never figured that she’d need her umbrella, especially not right now. The forecast didn’t say much about rain. 

This did give her ample time to contemplate her feelings and actions towards Victoria meant. It brought a splash of blush against her cheeks every time, Kate’s heart squirming in her chest with emotion. 

The gentle pattering of the rain against the shops metal roofing provided a sort of soundtrack to Kate’s thoughts, waiting for the rain to stop, seeing as Kate doesn’t have many other options. Her daze is broken, though, when someone calls her name. 

“Kate?”    


Kate jumps with a squeal, the sudden appearance of another someone obviously unexpected, wide eyes pointing to the source, only to find Victoria standing there. 

“Are– Are you alright?” she gently asks, eyes pointing away bashfully, clutching an umbrella like she isn’t quite sure about what she’s doing. It's an interesting and unexpected sight but it makes Kate’s heart warm a little. 

“Oh, Victoria, hi… I was– I was just waiting for the rain to pass,” Kate responds, blushing. 

Victoria clears her throat, gathering the courage yet still not quite meeting Kate’s eyes, “Do you need a ride or… or something? I was on my way back to the dorms and saw you standing here and I thought…” 

She lets that thought go, one hand reaching up to the back of her head, as Kate sits on the offer, seriously thinking about the possibilities that’ll arise from this. But, in a flurry of blinks, Kate’s mind settles on a calming thought that this could lead to something good, despite the initial awkwardness. Being brave before wasn't hard, per se, just that the bravery took most of an afternoon to wind up. This? Kinda takes Kate by surprise.   


Besides, she’s managed to get as far as she did… so… why stop now?

Kate turns to Victoria, mouth agape momentarily as if she’s meaning to say something. She doesn’t though, and the edges of her mouth upturn into a small smile, aimed at Victoria. 

 

“Sure. I’d like that.” 


	16. blue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Max spends a Saturday at Chloe's, like any other, only this time around, she bears witness to what is basically a tradition, now. 
> 
> She has a blast.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for how late this is, guys, I was absent from home during the weekend and only got around to writing it Sunday night. _BUT,_ that does mean you guys get two prompts in one day, so that's nice. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

Max knocks on the door to Chloe’s house, excitement evident in the bounce of her leg and the smile on her face.

 

Seeing as it’s a Saturday, Max is, of course, at Chloe’s house, just like any other weekend but this time around, it's special, special in the fact that she’s helping the two of them re-dye Chloe’s hair. Rachel explained a while ago that dyeing Chloe’s hair is something of a ritual for the two of them, where they take a free day and just hang out and eat all sorts of junk.

Of course, now that Max is in their trio of friends, she’s been invited. It made her happy to an odd amount, but it made sense since she still felt bad for the five-years-that-are-never-to-be-spoken-of, despite Chloe telling her more times than she can count that she’s over it.

Max sighs, the thought of those years diminishing her smile just a smidge, but it doesn’t get a chance to falter, because the door flies open with a beaming Rachel on the other side, traces of blue across the fingers of one hand.

“Max, hi! You made it, but why are you using the doorbell?” Rachel inquires, moving into the house after leaving the door open, “This is more your second house than it is mine, really.” There’s a really big open pizza box on the table in the dining room and Rachel takes one out of many slices in there.

Max hums and just shrugs, “Dunno, figured Joyce was here or something.” 

Rachel waves it away, taking a bite of pizza, “Nah, she gave Chloe and I the house to get this entire deed out of the way.”

Chloe pads down the stairs as they talk, Max reaching for a slice after her bag is deposited at the front door. With her hair wet and a towel around her shoulders, she calls out for the two.

“Come on, Rachel you slut, I’m _dye_ -ing inside– oh, hey Bat Max.”

Max chuckles and Chloe, pausing her rant, fist bumps Max. The laughing Rachel looks on as Chloe, of course, makes the explosion sound with her mouth.

“Let’s get going ladies, we can stuff our faces once the color’s drying,” Chloe hurries, gesturing towards the stairs, “I wanna get this over and done with before step-ass decides to stop by.”

From then on, Max witnesses the reality of the bond Rachel and Chloe have, the bond the two have made in Max’s absence and a seed of something like jealousy plants in her chest, but it goes undetected for the most part because this? Is probably amongst the most fun she’s had with her two friends.

There’s something that solidifies between them when she sees this process that’s treated as sacred and divine between the two and it almost feels like it because it’s basically as if Chloe restarts. The smile on her face is brighter, her laugh is louder, her hair, of course, prettier, and there’s something about her that makes Max giddier and happier. All of those, of course, are always there but it's as if Chloe is refreshed.

What Max fails to see is what this means to Rachel and Chloe. The two see what Max truly mean to them and the knowing looks Max doesn't see or doesn't care to comment only pave the road to a question that weighs heavy on their chests, something to make or break what they have.

Their night ends in large amounts of pizza and other junk, movies to hate-watch and banter aplenty, as it always does, ending in such a way that only messes with Max’s head and thoughts. Though, on the other side, Rachel and Chloe aren't doing any better either.

 

None of them know how to ask what they want.


	17. damned [1 / 2]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Max is damned. 
> 
> Two-parter prompt-fill, 17. Damned and 18. Safe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm gonna juggle things a bit and make this a similar prompt to one I've had BUT give it an extension, a follow-up. This one is a de facto follow up of that one other but basically, I'm trying to cover up the fact that I really like this kind of Max.

Max is damned. 

 

This power is simply not what Chloe had always set it out to be. This power is simply not what Max had thought it would be, and it couldn’t be used for what she thought she could use it for. Its purpose is far grimmer and has only managed to cause suffering. 

And nothing but. 

The number of timelines created, abandoned, destroyed, shifted, mended, shook, is completely lost on Max, her sanity trailing not far behind it. What dregs of it she possesses get lost second by second. Something inside Max bubbles and she wants nothing more than to scream out until this power or her life leaves her core and sets her into the ground to rest. 

A week she had previously enjoyed due to the presence of a certain blue-headed person had turned into her own personal hell, Max’s rationality and insanity forcing her to find an acceptable alternative to destroying the town or sacrificing Chloe, thus, in turn, destroying herself from the inside out. 

Suicide had been an out she had seriously considered, but the flame of determination to get herself from this hell exists, still, despite how diminished it sits in what’s left of her soul. Her head swims and every reality she grasps lesser and lesser than the last. 

The past few timelines had started with Nathan and his idiotic head cracked open on the bathroom floor, only to be rewound into its past state and settled within a less psychotic manner. Max has slowly become permanently winded, never quite truly rested. 

There was one timeline that went similarly to the one she plans to execute now, but Sean Prescott had played a crucial role in the crumbling of it. This time, Max is prepared against whatever he has in his sleeve, seeing as time is not a factor she worries about. 

It would be a stretch to claim it was on her side. 

This timeline, she pushes the washing cart out into the open, Nathan approaching the same corner she’s behind with his gun aimed and Chloe threatened, his incoherent rambling becoming white noise, only for Max to leap out and perform the good old hammer-to-the-head trick. It works every single time, the evidence is there, Nathan is imprisoned, Jefferson is captured but the town dies all the same. 

Damnation, eternal or not, won’t be able to grasp Maxine Caulfield fully. 

 

With Chloe’s wrist grabbed, they sprint from the school, Max eager to get a timeline right. 


	18. safe [2 / 2]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Max is damned. 
> 
> But maybe for once, she'd be safe instead. 
> 
> Two-parter prompt fill, 17. Damned and 18. Safe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Idefk anymore. At the start of this I attempted to keep it all canon within one 'everyone is alive and gay' AU but that hit the fan like the shit it was very very soon, lmfao
> 
> This is getting hectic, hope you guys still enjoy

Chloe is safe. 

 

This week had been the best and most turbulent in her life. 

The best friend she had stayed hung up on had appeared just in time to save her life after five years of absolutely no communication, sat and looked almost  _ bored _ through Chloe’s speech that she made for precisely this exact situation (which she honestly thought she’d never used) and had explained that basically… 

She was a fucking time traveler. 

Chloe could barely fucking believe it but after the correct guess of the future number one through one hundred thirty six, Chloe had grounds to  _ fucking believe it,  _ as Mad had so eloquently explained. 

A week she had planned on spending finding Rachel had instead turned into busting Nathan Presdick and Mark Jeffershit for some of the most fucked up crap she’s also endured, had instead turned into getting as many citizens of Arcadia Bay the fuck out of dodge for a tornado that only Max the crazy lunatic time traveler has seen. 

In reality, the very idea of it seemed stupid but at the end of the day, they got out the people they cared about. 

Most of Blackwell’s student body had made it out, Chloe’s parents, step-douche included and a slew of other people who had taken Max’s vision seriously. It was amazing what Max had managed to pull off. 

But now, as Chloe looks at her sleeping form and back to the road while trailing through Max’s damp hair, her head on Chloe’s lap, she realizes exactly how  _ different _ Max looks. True, she’s still just a super-sized version of the hipster Chloe had last seen five years ago but it’s not quite  _ her.  _

Any trail of innocence from Max’s eyes is gone and behind them only the spark of revenge, something far more primal than the wish to save people. Chloe shivered when their eyes locked, a distinct  _ need _ for revenge present, not anything like Chloe has seen before, apart from maybe herself when Chloe had explained Rachel’s untimely faith. 

Fingers gripping around the steering wheel, Chloe sniffs, fighting back the tears that come at the thought of Rachel, her angel, disposed of like that. The revenge she sees in Max makes sense when she remembers that fact.

But right now, the plan for Chloe was to get the hell out of dodge. Shortly after a slew of people got out of the Bay, Max fell asleep. 

Well, coma would be more fitting, Chloe thinks, because there was nothing to wake her up. Thus, Chloe did the only thing that makes sense and drove them out to the nearest bed. Chloe pulls up to the motel just off the road she had in mind before she set out and slowly pulled the truck to a stop. 

With the sigh, she bound for the front desk, to get a room for the two. No matter how broke Chloe was, she managed to scrounge up enough money for three days worth of stay. 

The light rain is all that was left of the Arcadia Bay tornado (and in a way, Arcadia Bay itself) and that hasn’t subsided for the entire trip, nor does it look like it plans to any time soon. Chloe tugs her beanie towards her eyes just a little more and, with care, manages to carry Max’s unconscious body from her truck to the room she had gotten. 

Once Max’s body finds the nearest comfortable surface, Chloe strips away the pieces of clothing that stick to her skin, opting to leave the shirt for decency’s sake and pulls up a chair to sit by Max’s bedside. From there, Chloe looks at Max, really  _ looks at her,  _ like trying to decipher a puzzle that’s a couple dozen stacks of IQ above her. 

She remembers then, something Max had said to her before, on a night that smelled of chlorine and cigarettes.

_ I’ve gone through so many timelines that I’ve lost count.  _ Chloe remembers exactly the way Max hesitated in explaining that part and blinks at how perfect her minds recounting of Max’s explanation was.  _ It all started and stopped the same, without there being much I could change.  _

_ All of the ends gave me two bullshit ways to go about it. One that kills me and another that kills everyone else.  _

The severity of the situation isn’t lost on Chloe’s shoulders and it’s evident in the heavy sigh she lets go, her hand running through Max’s hair, gently. Her tears can’t help but start the more she spends inside her own head. 

 

They’re finally safe, after all of Max’s attempts. That night, Chloe cries for two. 


	19. vanilla [amberfield]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rachel can be truly herself when she gets down to enjoying the simple things. Like the beach, or a forty ounce shared in the back of Chloe's rusted pickup.
> 
> Or for example, taking apart a nerdy hipster and seeing how they tick.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _DAMN_ , Y'all need more Amberfield in your lives. Thoroughly under-appreciated ship. Sorry this is late, enjoy and if you write, please write more Amberfield, I'm dying over here. It's a drought I swear to god. 
> 
> This one gets a little saucy. After tossing and turning and wrestling this prompt, I finally found a way to tackle it properly and boy am I proud.

Rachel Amber had always been a sucker for the simple things. 

 

Summer nights where the weather is just cool enough, the way the sand feels between her toes, the smiles and banter she shares with one Chloe Price, the fact that Chloe uses the phrase ‘ride or die, chicken thigh’ unironically and  _ frequently _ , the adorable dog of their drug dealer, Frank– okay, maybe that one was a little less simple. But these are just some things that reminded Rachel that she is truly her own deep down inside. 

Sometimes, it was easy to get lost in the facade she built for people to enjoy, the one facade that formed a mind of its own and went around befriending any and everyone and sometimes it was hard tearing it down when you're around people you can trust. Chloe has been in the small, exclusive club named “Rachel can leave her walls down around you” club from almost the get-go; she's almost the one that founded the club. With Chloe, though, that started and ended. 

Chloe and Rachel, their relationship itself is also something simple, something palpable to keep her hooked to the ground instead of floating away like a balloon slipped from the grasp of a careless child. All it took was communication, which Rachel has oodles of. 

Though a wrench by the name of Max Caulfield had been thrown into the plans and this disaster was one that Rachel liked. Soon the exclusive club became a person heavier purely on Chloe’s letter of recommendation and besides, even if she wasn’t Chloe’s friend, Rachel would have urged to get to know Max better. 

The dorky hipster’s adorable smile and freckles had been icing on the cake that is her personality that disarms you with every misstep and mistake she pulls then apologizes for. Before she even knew it, Rachel behaved like her true self around Max and the effects of that were evident whenever Max’s face turned a shade of red at Rachel’s behavior. 

And even after all this time, Rachel Amber had always been, and currently is, a sucker for the simple things, and the list of simple things got a bit longer when the exclusive club grew larger. 

Rachel had always been a touchy person, hugging every chance and holding hands, leaving stray touches here and there, nudges and pushes, anything to do with any sort of contact. Soon, she found the scent of vanilla very soothing, right next to Chloe’s trademark weed and men’s body wash, but Rachel never could place where and how. 

The beauty of the relationship between Rachel and Chloe is that they weren’t tied to one another. Last summer when the two disappeared from the Bay to go and party, Chloe had managed to bang every somewhat curious girl that side of the west coast, Rachel trailing not far behind her in body count and the pair still recount the tails of that unforgettable summer. 

With this exact beauty shining bright, Rachel found why she found the scent of vanilla so soothing with her _expert_ detective work. She remembers in the hugs she gave, the nudges, the handholding, all of it, and especially now, with her lips buried in the crook of a neck that throws her head in a tizzy, the entire length and upwards lit up in a tomato red, where she found that scent and why it had comforted her so. 

Rachel didn’t feel bad about any of this and, in fact, it was quite the opposite. Chloe  _ had _ called dibs one drunken night when she felt especially predatory, evident in the marks she had left on Rachel’s neck later, the ones she had worn like badges of honor for the next week, but something tells Rachel that she didn’t much remember. 

And besides, judging by how sinful Max truly is, Rachel figures Chloe would get her turn. She also figures Max would be the one to tether them both into something new and exhilarating. One step at a time, though. 

 

For now, Rachel can just enjoy Max and all five foot two she has to offer, the scent of vanilla cooling Rachel in a wave of calm as she unwinds the photographer at her fingertips, lust swirling and meddling in her thoughts. 


	20. hate [chasefield]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Victoria Chase is a being of hate and there's a shitlist of people she has, and then Max Caulfield, being the only outlier on it, does what she does best. 
> 
> Exist. 
> 
> Which is a problem, seeing as she metaphorically dips her pinkies into Victoria's other lists. 
> 
> Like her list of most bangable, the one she made begrudgingly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, it's late. I completely forgot about doing the prompt since I managed to fix Apex Legends from crashing every game! 
> 
> Pro Tip, if you have similar issues, the subreddit for Apex has a master list of community collected attempts at fixing the issue. Limiting the framerate and repairing the game worked for me, fingers crossed it does for you if you crash a lot!

Victoria Chase is a person of hate.

 

If you ask anybody in Blackwell’s student body about someone they hate, the chances that their answer would be ‘Victoria Chase’ are as high as the skater kids on a Friday night. The number of people who wouldn’t say her name would count quite nicely on the fingers of a single palm.

Victoria, obviously, being the first, followed by friend and confidant Nathan Prescott, Victoria's truest friend in the sea of sycophants under the guise of a school, followed by her cronies, Taylor and Courtney, with the fifth finger being reserved for the exception to any and all of this.

Maxine Caulfield, Victoria’s number one– well, number _two_ worst enemy, Rachel Amber taking Victoria’s nemesis throne.

Anyways, Max, yes.

The hipster queen of Blackwell in all her freckle-covered, five-foot-five glory is single-handedly Victoria’s greatest _threat,_ in her I-don’t-even-try clothes and her analogue equipment and her dorky giggle and blushing face–

Victoria is a proud person who has been taught to keep emotions on the side and face her studies and work with a straight poker face and crush anyone who stands between her and what she wants with the heel of her boot. Or boots, depending on how petty she feels.

But anyone who leads that sort of lifestyle could go on and on and on about how hard it gets. Victoria understands it all and has felt it all, which is how she ends up smashed at most (all) Vortex Club parties. Victoria may not drink responsibly but she _does_ get smashed responsibly, surrounded by friends and people who fear her too much to do something she wouldn’t want.

One of these days is very similar as she drinks the annoyance of Mark Jefferson fawning over Max’s work _yet again,_ and knocks back the bottle of the clear whatever she’s holding in her hand, surrounded by equally drunk and trusted friends, but as is customary, nature calls and the only downside to the VIP section rears its head.

Having no bathroom and being forced to use the one all the common rabble use, the one that smells of puke and houses people too drunk to stand (coincidentally, often the ones that make the place stink of puke in the first place).

So Victoria manages to stumble her drunken backside towards the general direction of the bathroom and out of the corner of her eye, she spots the brown mug of hair, oddly enough not flanked by her entourage of lesbians and instead being made thoroughly uncomfortable by some drunker-than-life dudebro with a backwards hat and honestly? That makes Victoria boil even more than Jefferson not paying any attention to her.

So she did what Victoria Chase does best and quite literally buried him in a pile of his own _shit._ Socially, of course, that’s disgusting realistically and, trying her hardest not the slur her words _or_ crack this bottle over his shitty head, Victoria lays into him with a fury of a drunken Sun on a summer day, calling out his social standing, choice in women, choice in poison, seeing as his breath stank of the worst beer they had around and a slew of other things Victoria really couldn’t remember.

What she could remember next was Max’s gratitude and Victoria’s drunken proposal to grab some air, their heart-to-heart, most of which Victoria cannot and _will not_ remember, after which, everything is a blur. All she knows right now is the fact that Max is in her bed, naked, her freckled chest spattered in hickeys rising up and down as she snores lightly, while all Victoria does is stare, dumbfounded, her brain bouncing around against the walls of her skull, feeling like it might actually escape.

 

For all it's worth, Victoria is not _one hundred_ percent hate. There’s a percentage of sapphic love in her somewhere and none of it can deny exactly how cute Maxine Caulfield is.


	21. wings [amberprice]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If you ask anyone in Blackwell's campus, the person they'd use to describe 'angel' with is Kate Marsh, but Chloe is not a person in Blackwell's campus. Well, she's not there _frequently,_ but...
> 
> Anyways, her answer wouldn't be Kate.

To many of the people Chloe knew in Blackhell, Kate Marsh is the unanimous angel-without-wings. 

 

I mean sure, Chloe can’t blame everyone for thinking that, considering Kate’s faith and good deeds and all but if Chloe really had to think about it, as if it's a question someone frequently asks her on a day-to-day basis, she would without-a-doubt just say Rachel. 

Rachel Amber, the rightful queen of Blackwell, Chloe’s angel and her demon, saviour, goddess (Rachel has a love-hate relationship with that one since Chloe let it slip in the bedroom one time), and a long,  _ long,  _ seriously far too long list of names Chloe spent countless nights thinking up like the hopeless romantic she denies she is, would be Chloe’s pick. 

Not a lot of people see the side of Rachel that Chloe (and recently Max) get to see, the kind, selfless soul behind the facade of the everyone’s-friend glamour girl she puts up that honestly? Chloe wishes she’d put down for once. 

Doesn’t matter much to her, though, Chloe just wishes everyone would see the Rachel she continually keeps falling in love with. But maybe not the one that goes down on Chloe, she’d like to keep that one for herself, thank you  _ very _ much. 

Though Chloe could never say their relationship came to where it is right now without its fair share of setbacks and issues, Chloe’s confounding emotional immaturity coming into play often but they managed to smooth it out, for it all to culminate in quite literally the best thing in Chloe’s life. The agreement the pair has is fine with Chloe and all but the fact that Rachel  _ chooses _ to come to her and call her her own is what makes her heart soar. 

The gentle morning Sun rays shine through the American flag draped over the window closest to Chloe’s bed as she lays still in it, her head supported by her hand as she watches over her angel, having only recently woken up. The two are wound in an embrace together after a night out and Chloe is surprisingly the one to wake up first. 

 

There on, she decides she’s had enough staring and stirs awake her angel with kisses, tracing over the hickeys she left just last night. 


	22. shopping

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chloe, Rachel, Victoria (and Kate, too) all go shopping. 
> 
> For Max. 
> 
> It goes as well as you'd think and Max can't get a word in, edge-wise. It's actually really annoying.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm a total sucker for any sort of alternate look that differs from canon: different hair, different hair color, different outfits, different styles, I love it all and it's hard to put in wild changes like that into a fic without it coming across as really, really obvious. 
> 
> I've seen it done well but I have a long way to go as an author to be able to manage that :P Hope you enjoy!

Max comes into her room and shuts it as quickly as she can, her back rested on it as she slides to the floor. 

 

Her breathing is somewhat erratic and her eyes are wide, decorated with bags on both eyes. Max exhales after a moment or two of nothing but breathing and relaxes properly this time, almost certain she’s evaded those who are on the hunt for her. 

The past few days had been a fucking roller coaster, to say the least. Suddenly, Chloe, Rachel, Victoria, hell, even Kate, had all wanted to take Max clothes shopping to get her out of mom-jeans and drab hoodies, which had gone about as well as you can imagine. 

When it came down to it, not as much shopping as Max thought would happen had happened, instead, her entourage (not counting Kate) had all just spent the entire time bickering and arguing what Max should wear. I mean, they did  _ get  _ something, surprisingly, but at the middle point of the third day of Max playing mediator between them all, she had gotten sick of it all and slipped away back to Blackwell under the guise of having to use the little girl’s room. 

The group caught wind quick and gave chase for Max, but somehow, Max managed to escape, and she figured that this freedom is short lived. 

Max dusts her  _ mom-jeans _ , she mocks mentally and locks the door, after which she turns to the dresser and huffs, what with its slightly overflowing state. Max tries to think of something to get them off their back as she walks around in circles inside her own room, definitely not eager to go outside any time soon, seeing as she’s not eager to meet any of her friends after everything. 

The ding in Max’s head that signifies an idea goes off at the same time the rapping against the door does. 

“Max, are you in there?” Rachel’s voice asks on the other side, “You dashed off and I figured this is the place I’d find you.” 

With a sigh, Max begrudgingly replies, “Yeah, I’m here. Where else would I go?”    
Rachel laughs from the other side, “I thought the same thing, I’m glad I found you.” 

From the dresser, Max yanks a shirt and a pair of roughed up jeans and tosses them to the bed, “Why’s that? So you can drag me back into getting dressed up by people who don’t even listen to what I want slash have to say?” 

Max is stunned by the vitriol she lets loose into that reply and falters for a second, but rolls her eyes a second later and appends a “No thanks,” all the while getting into the clothing she just tore out of her dresser. 

She can hear Rachel sigh on the other side of the door and continue with her own reply right after, “Max, look, we’re sorry, okay?” 

On the other side of the door, despite Rachel being the only one to speak, was Chloe and Victoria who had only just now gotten into the dorms. Rachel shot Chloe a concerned look, one that wondered whether the group had gone a bit far and genuinely upset Max. Chloe really could only provide back a concerned shrug of her own, but she felt a similar way, seeing as part of this was her idea. 

When this all started, she thought for it to be just her and Max. Then Rachel caught wind and of course, she had to get in on it and Victoria, well, Chloe had no idea how she got mixed up but she did and Kate followed suit, which was odd. According to Rachel though, it wasn’t as odd as Chloe found it; in the past days, Kate has been around Victoria quite a lot. 

That’s a story for another time, though. 

Chloe is on the fence about piping up herself with an honest apology to this entire situation but Victoria cut into her thought with a frown, mouth open and about to say something, but before she has the chance, they all hear a click, Max’s door opens, and Rachel almost falls forwards from leaning on it. 

In her room, Max stands with a frown on her face, but truth be told, none of the four girls were looking at her face for long. Max stands in the doorway to her room clad in all new apparel the group had bought for her. 

A sleeveless shirt Chloe actually  _ made _ from a thrift store grab, completely black with a graphic of a curled up feather, drenched in something, which Chloe had explained to be a band tee; a pair of acid-washed capri jeans Victoria picked out that, if Chloe and Rachel were truthful, actually looked pretty good, and a pair of wide Vans of Rachel’s choosing that sported a white sole and nothing more past that for accents. 

Oh, and some bracelets Kate picked out on the way. She didn’t really want to butt-in too much, but it was a nice touch on top of the ones Max already has.

Max’s hands wrap around her torso after they’re done waving at the group of stunned girls in front of Max’s door. Every single one of them passes a few moments doing nothing but blinking with open mouths. Max’s words managed to snap them out of it, though. 

“Guys,” Max sighs, a word into her retort to the reaction, “I appreciate the clothes but can we  _ please _ not do this again? I really don’t want to spend two days watching you guys bicker across a mall.”

Rachel blinks, shaking her head once for emphasis and in a quiet voice blurts out, “Hey, Max, there’s this party I’m going to and–” 

A bemused Max takes a step back and shuts the door closed with her foot. On the other side of it, most of the group bemoans Max’s retreat whereas Kate just giggles. 

“I’m not opening this door again!” Max calls out while slumping against the same door. 

 

She thinks everything over in a few moments of silence and she sighs, a slight blush dusting her face. Max could get used to looks like that. She eyes her dresser wearily and thinks of wearing more of the stuff they bought her. 


	23. gold [amberfield]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Max experiences the golden afterglow that comes with the morning after.

With a shaky breath, Max’s head feels like it would pop.

 

All that her eyes can see is a sea of gold, the tension in her stomach growing and the heat in her face threatening to boil her alive. Letting loose a shaky exhale earns her a small chuckle in response and from there on, she feels hands roam under her shirt, the touch of all five fingers leaving her skin electric.

Her head is arched back, another body entwined with her own. Max’s hands idly roam around the hips of the other body wrapped around her and they grip at the flannel shirt they find there. With a bite of her lower lip, Max’s hand strays lower and _that_ earns her a light giggle.

Lips come up to meet her own and Max can’t help but connect the kiss first chance she gets. It drives her head wild and her minds astray but it helps relieve the insane warmth she feels without sweating. The lips on hers are silk and drive Max insane, the ferocity of Max’s kiss being reciprocated with them, to which Max can only respond with a moan as her heart speeds up just that little bit more and swells at the thought of reciprocation.

Max has no idea how this all happened since any portion of her mind that isn’t processing emotion and the _want_ she feels is currently off limits. Well, not off limits, just not working. In the dim light of Blackwell’s park lamps, two bodies melt together.

Vision didn’t matter much in the night, then; Max’s eyes spent most of the time closed in lust. The real sight came in the morning, the already golden mane of Rachel Amber in the glory of hers that is afterglow. Max takes the time to let the facts settle in and mimics the smirk that settles on Rachel’s face when she wakes up, moments before they kiss again.

Max can’t help but associate Rachel Amber with gold: her hair, her personality, her company and her love, the smile she wears with skill and all of it.

 

To Max, Rachel is gold.


	24. blessed [amberpricefield]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Max nuts up, finally. 
> 
> The terminology isn't perfect but its the thought that counts. She takes a leap, the final step, reaches out, asks the million dollar question. 
> 
> Does the thing. Whatever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not late, you're late. 
> 
> Anyways yeah, have an anticlimactic ending to the Amberpricefield I've been teasing along the way.

Though a rare thought, it was evident that Max Caulfield is blessed. 

 

You’d think of blessed in different ways than one, some or rather most thinking to religion when the term appears, but ‘blessed’ comes in so many shapes and sizes, ones Max never thought possible. They could be in the form of a small gift from the person you’d expect it from the most or perhaps that last little bit of will to get up in the morning; all of them a blessing in their own ways. 

In a way, the three girls fit together like a small puzzle and that fact, Max found, was her blessing. 

Her blessing, or plural, rather, were Rachel-shaped and Chloe-shaped. 

It was nearing the end of the year and Max was surprised with herself and the fact that her head didn’t blow off from the amount of thinking she did about this and her approach in this situation. Certainly, the question she posed was scandalous and she knew, but… 

The looks she receives from her friends feel a little more than friendly and the pokes and jabs and physical contact sparks a little too hot to be just-friends-contact. 

Turns out, she was right, which leads her to her current position. 

The setting autumn sun waltzes into her room through the open window like it's no one's business, the flimsy curtain providing no protection from the wind but instead, lazily dancing in it, the sound of Max’s moans in duet with the calm-natured chirping of the birds outside. 

Days countdown to this generations last year in Blackwell and, with this deadline in mind, Max decided to not be a pussy for once and boy, did it work out in her favor. 

Her breathy moan comes out in shakes, her core completely covered in  _ girl _ and her mind completely blanked with… well,  _ girl.  _ Plural, though, as Rachel and Chloe leave pecks and kisses across the freckled wreck snug tightly between them. Their hands roam across Max in weird patterns, each touch of skin driving Max more insane by the second. 

Occasionally, lips swerve off track to give Max a moment to breathe, moments she barely even picks up with her head lost at sea. The lips swerve to connect hungrily to another pair of lips, be it one combination or the other. Rachel, what with being behind Max, loses out on parts of the fun. 

But she figures she’d get her girls, still. Besides, there’s time for them and in this sandwich, Max is not the only one blessed. They all are, with each other and the love that’s tied them together this way. Something warm pools in Rachel’s stomach at the thought of the words  _ her girls _ and she can only begin to think the high Chloe feels, though right now? She can’t help but envy Max. 

 

Her lips still dance across freckled skin without a care in the world, though, a small smile spreading through them. 


	25. split

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In her room and asleep, Max splits. She overtakes a timeline some-fucking-how and lives it out in her dreams. 
> 
> It's like lucid dreaming but on crack and it's more enjoyable than not, often ending up far too tempting for its own good. Kind of like crack.

Sometimes, in her dreams, Max would wander.

 

Not in the classical sense of lucid dreaming and imagining walking somewhere, no. She wanders across time, in the exhaustion-fueled dreams that are there only when she knocks herself out with long nights awake when she doesn’t want to see what’s on the inside of her closed eyelids. 

When she wanders, she’s… safe. Well, more often than not.

Sometimes, she gets a snippet of how another Max lives, in another timeline, one where she decided differently, spoke differently, took less shit, gave less shit, saved Kate, didn’t save Kate– 

Sometimes, she’d see  _ that _ or the Dark Room and her stomach would churn her awake, threatening to stain her sheets with what’s probably blood or bile, since Max barely eats since the Bay, anyway. Sometimes, it's Rachel’s decomposed body and the tears staining her rotting blue flannel, the origin one of two, sometimes both. From those, Max awakes with a piercing pain behind her tears and a sense of  _ guilt,  _ and one she can’t explain. 

But, it can even be something nice. Holding hands with Chloe, a crucial absence of roaring winds and heavy rain but the heavy sadness and sad smile still the same on each of them, or maybe it's waking up in bed with Victoria, afterglow doused over them like a someone with too much to prove and an itchy deodorant finger, or maybe it's pulling back after placing a dainty kiss on Kate’s lips. 

She never knows what she’s gonna get but it’s more good than bad, so sometimes, splitting like this can be a good thing. This new life she’s built gets heavy on her shoulders and an escape that isn’t  _ weed _ is nice to have every now and then. She lives the role of the Max she takes over for that dream and really, really relaxes, seeing how some timelines  _ aren’t _ completely fucked, some that don’t end in a dead girlfriend or a dead  _ town.  _

Once in a blue moon, she gets the weirdest ones of them all. 

She splits off into a timeline where… Rachel is alive, Chloe is too, there’s an Arcadia Bay that they left behind a while ago and there’s something far more intimate between them all, something Max could never explain in words, only emotion. In those ones, she cries, but never stays around long. 

 

Otherwise, she might be tempted to try, no matter how lucky it would be to get that… exact… timeline. 


	26. comfort [amberpricefield]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chloe deserves this tidbit of comfort.

If you ask literally anyone but Chloe, they’d tell you this stretch of comfort and ease in her life has been a long time coming. 

Chloe, the one that should be interested in her own well being and comfort the most doesn’t feel like she’s earned what little she gets. Sure, it's perfectly possible that the two best things in her life might have led her to think that she just needs to make amends with the universe for being a bitch, but… 

It seems like a normal reaction to a rather turbulent introduction to adulthood. 

Well, whatever the universe thinks doesn’t matter as much, anyways. Chloe Price is getting that comfort whether the universe likes it or not. The past few days have been nice, partying with Rachel and Max. Chloe stretches, her hands over her head as she reaches past th– ow. 

Her sleepy eyes pry open when her hands bump into something. Her thoughts of hoping she didn’t do anything stupid last night faded quickly as she eyed the curious new place she’s woken up in. There’s a plant in the far corner, a guitar leaned against the couch opposite them and there are Polaroids across the bri– 

Max’s room. A blush overtakes Chloe’s face when her eyes focus on the polaroids on the wall right next to her but when they pan down, the blush threatens to drown her. At her midriff, were Rachel and Max, snuggled into her. 

The realization struck with the oddest sensation, Chloe’s two collective brain cells incapable of figuring out  _ how _ this happened and why. In this flustered state, she almost bolts out of bed, out from between the two girls but when Max makes an adorable sound in her sleep and only snuggles further into Chloe, her heart threatens to burst. 

Chloe sighs, her heart torn in different directions, all of them labeled ‘joy’ as her speeding heart rate settles and her brain recounts the happenings of the night before. It comes back to her in the form of yet another, brighter red overtaking her face, reaching down to her neck this time as well. 

Once her head settles out of overdrive, Chloe’s face lets loose its pensive visage to the sound of the birds outside, signaling a bright and early morning. Craning her neck to check the clock, Chloe deduces she has more time to snuggle and sleep. Besides, Blackwell is done with soon and the two girls that are literally  _ on  _ her have nowhere else to be. 

So… Chloe just… goes with it. She settles back in, her hands slowly coming to rest on each of the two girls on top of her right now and, with a small but deep inhale, Chloe’s eyes shut again. 

 

She’ll take any moment of comfort wherever she can get it and right now, she will enjoy the hell out of this one. 


	27. space [amberpricefield]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Max needed a bit of space. Needed.

The last few days had been interesting for Max. 

 

Sane people who are not used to Blackwell or the people enrolled in the school would not have called any of what Max went through interesting but rather completely heart-meltingly insane. Since  _ That Night,  _ as Max has mentally dubbed it, Max has been spacing out a lot more, involved thoroughly in the grinding of the gears inside her head, but she has also had the chance to partake in things she would not have ever believed. 

If you had approached Max Caulfield when she had gotten off the bus to Arcadia Bay way back when and told her all that transpires in the coming year and loose change, she wouldn’t believe you, calling you crazy once she got past the ‘who are you’s and ‘what are you talking about’s. None of what happened to her makes any sort of sense in retrospect but all of it feels right when Max shocks back to the present. 

Hindsight is twenty-twenty, Max finds out now as the trio of girls lay under the stars in comfortable silence, and there's really nowhere Max would rather be.  


As they sit, Max’s head and feet rested over the sides of the truck’s bed, Chloe’s head laying on her stomach, the punk lightly snores away as Max’s fingers card through her hair gently. Right below her, she finds a Rachel tucked into Chloe, eyes coming occasionally to connect with Max’s as they smile at each other, enjoying the wordless company and comfort between the three girls after a rather emotionally draining conversation. Not in the bad kind, of course, just a fact that they're all drained.  

The perfect hoodie weather coerces the sleepiness they all feel but Max's head is in a tizzy for now and there's not much she could do. Max has no doubts there’s a storm of thoughts in each girl’s head but she does figure that they handle it much better than she does. A shudder runs through the mousey girl as she thinks back to that night and folds away the memory, for now, not wanting to kick her squirming and blushing back into full gear and instead thinks of how stupid she was to be hesitant and odd about a proposition like the one that was brought to her. 

It was funny how that transpired and, much to Max’s overwhelming joy, both of the girls felt the same exact way as she did, a deep blush accentuating the giddiness that moved into Max’s heart and core once they asked the question and the realization set in. 

Max sighs, her fingernails digging lightly into the punk’s scalp, a smile forming and a satisfied, sleepy moan drawling from her core as her head leans back again against the truck’s bed and stares up. 

As is with all major deals in her life, Max figured she would need space, and plenty of it to sort it all out. But she knew from first base that that wasn’t going to fly. Rachel and Chloe, after laying their hearts bare were one hundred percent, no doubt in mind, come after Max and deal with it  _ with  _ her, rather than Max stewing in her own thoughts alone. 

Chuckling nasally, Max thinks of irony. She needed space and that’s exactly what she got, in the literal sense. They find themselves here after Max was hunted down by her two frien– 

Girlfriends. Her two girlfriends, and after talking it out in the junkyard, the trio decided to enjoy the night’s stars. 

From there, inside the truck bed, with two girls to love and Blackwell as a chapter coming to a close, Max can look forward to the future and see how bright it is. For once, it’s not a shitpit of guilt and wondering whether or not Chloe would look her way again. 

 

Instead, it’s something much greater and Max can’t wait. 


	28. princess [amberpricefield]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rachel feels like a princess when the future rears its pretty head.

A wave of relief and joy washes over Rachel’s weary soul, the waves and tides of emotions and love etching their impressions on the magnificent boat that is her heart. 

 

And as complicated and theatrical that exact metaphor is, it made sense when Chloe presented it to her right before they asked Max the million dollar question, the one that could sway their friendship in any direction, which, despite the tick of anxiety gnawing on Rachel’s core, something in her still didn’t believe anything bad would happen. 

Sure, things would be weird if things went awry once the question tipped the scale badly and not in their favor, but Rachel figured they would just fall into their old rhythm and things would go back to a fragile normal after enough time, the normal coming to heal over time and Rachel had mentally prepared for exactly that, once she considered how skittish Max could get about love stuff. 

Turns out, Rachel was absolutely completely and absolutely wrong. Pausing from packing the suitcase under her, a hand reaches for her lips, ghosting the length of the lower one for a quiet moment as the thoughts of Max flood back to her head, the taste of her skin gracing her senses from when she left that one big hickey on the base of Max’s neck and Chloe and her giraffe neck craning over Max’s shoulder to leave pecks on Rachel's jawline and lips. 

With that cherished memory in mind, the heat blooming in Rachel’s core spreads to the rest of her, arriving just shy near the tips of her appendages and she sighs wistfully, over the half-packed suitcase under her and gazes at the open window, perfect hoodie weather, as Max had called it, blowing a gentle breeze into her ransacked room. 

Her thoughts jump from Max to Chloe to Max and then to Chloe, again, wondering exactly why she had wondered things would go differently than the way they did, why she had doubted them and the chemistry they had.  


Sure, it was a large step to take but ultimately one Rachel wouldn't have regretted, whichever way things went.  


Unless the question, like, knocked Max out and that subsequently ending with Max's head being split ope-- Rachel physically waves those thoughts away, her eyes shutting and hand coming to shoo it away.  


The gentle breeze brushes Rachel’s hair as she sits down on the floor fully, her fingers tracing over a stack of polaroids she got from Max a while ago and she smiles, ear to ear, wondering how she had gotten so lucky after things seemed less than stellar just a little ago. 

Of course, she has no one else to thank but Chloe and Rachel has, numerous times, numerous ways. Now, there’s an extra someone to share that thanks with and Rachel smirks with the thoughts that run around her head at the very idea of getting to toy with Max and Chloe in the same bed. 

Her thoughts jump at the idea of also getting to live with the two girls during the gap year Rachel and Max were going to take, Max reasoning it so she can figure out what college even to apply for and Rachel just wanted a year to  _ work,  _ love and live. 

Work what she wants and likes, making money along the way, loving two of the best things in her life she’s gotten to experience and living in harmony and love. 

Obviously, the fairy tale sounds too good to be true at times, yes, but Rachel can’t help but feel like a princess when the next year is so laid out in front of her, still a tinge of mystery to it all. Another wide smile graces her lips in the same way a pebble graces a lake when thrown and she chuckles. 

 

College can wait, for now. There’s an interesting act of her life coming up and she wants to give it her all, scene by scene. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy fucking shit, it's the goddamn END. Wow, what a wild fucking ride. 
> 
> I really have no words to describe how this feels. Obviously, it's closure but also there are hints of sadness, as is with all WIP's ending, I assume, even though this entire project doesn't feel much like a WIP but rather a sort of boot-filling situation. The ground's stomped, the boots bought and all I have to do is fill 'em :P
> 
> Still, this was a journey, focusing on getting every prompt out in time and I had a lot of fun. 
> 
> I'll be surprised if anyone actually read a large amount of them/all of them. If you did, tell me in the comments what you thought overall and so that I can appreciate you properly ;P 
> 
> Seriously, though, if you stuck around and enjoyed, I'd like to say sorry for you having to look at my name in your inbox almost every goddamn day of February and I honestly hope this gets you to check out some of my other works.
> 
> Any and all comments are appreciated (unless you're being an asshole).
> 
> Thank you all so much for reading if you did and I wish you the best!


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